


staying here

by aMassiveDisappointment (BadOldWest)



Series: nicest men in the galaxy [2]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Being cold, F/M, Jealousy, Pining, Smut, the usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 06:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/aMassiveDisappointment
Summary: “Han Solo wouldn’t check on my frostbitten feet,” Jyn whispered. His eyes locked on hers. She saw the breath hiss out of his nose.“Han Solo wouldn’t check on me in the medbay… Han Solo wouldn’t bring me a space heater,” she drawled, crawling up her bed. He followed, compliant.“And yet, you were jealous of Han Solo,” she breathed against his lips.Jyn's POV during 'i happen to like nice men'





	

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! It's the Jyn POV that nobody asked for!!

Jyn was never much of a flirt,  _ when you’re starving you don’t play with your food, _ but Han Solo brought out that side of her. 

It was hard to resist, not because of physical attraction, but recognition. All of her friends were so quietly moral, so upstanding; darling to her for those very reasons. Han was not any of those things. Han and Jyn were alike, and their friendship came as no surprise to the devoted soldiers on Echo Base. 

There were rebel briefings where she stood in the back of the room, arms crossed, with Han a few feet away, also propped against the wall, arms crossed. And she had to say it felt good, their little corner, in opposition to the glory of war with the reasoning of survival. 

“If I’m going to be sticking my neck out I want to make sure it’s for something worth it,” he reasoned, straightening up to voice his concerns about what was, what was fair to say, a suicide mission. 

“If you wanted another pretty medal, Solo, all you had to do was ask,” Jyn’s lips tore back at one side in a wry, sideways smirk. 

It wasn’t Solo’s returning smirk that lit something in her, it the appreciative chuckles throughout the room of people who were long overdo for a laugh. Han didn’t make her feel at home, he was a part of that home, and those emotions were uncomplicated and straightforward in her own mind. It was easier to like her friends at this point. 

Still, sliding her eyes around the room to try and meet those people she had softened, warmed, she was unwittingly brought to shame by one person. 

Cassian wasn’t laughing. 

 

He was repairing his jacket when she walked into the room, a communal space made from an empty storage room for socializing and surreptitious partying. Bodhi smiled up at her, and she slung her arms around his neck and rested her chin on his shoulder as they watched Cassian work. 

“Our little wife,” Jyn mused affectionately, Bodhi’s eyes closing, more of an indication of his quiet laugh than any noise could be.

Cassian glanced up at her with a searing glare. It softened at the look on her and Bodhi’s faces. He wasn’t used to teasing like that yet. There was the usual masculinity-and-virility questioning all soldiers went through on hours off, but Jyn and the rest of the group seemed more clever, personal, that he didn’t know right away what they meant when they teased him. 

She pushed it further: “What? You’re good at sewing. Don’t you want to be good at everything?”

Bodhi breathed out, her joke misfiring as a little cruel. Jyn tucked her face in his neck a moment, hiding from her failure, before pulling up her own chair at the table. 

“ _ We like _ that you’re good at everything,” she amended. Cassian finally looked up at her from his stitches with something that wasn’t contempt. 

Han poked his head in the doorway, jacket in hand. “Have any of you seen Leia?”

“Not since her request to scout the Southern border was denied.”

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he was already shrugging the jacket on. 

“Show her who’s boss.” Jyn drawled, barely listening to him. As if he was ever the boss when it came to Leia. Jyn’s reflexes were always to mock Han, and he took it well. It was automatic, at this point, the snark between them. She didn’t have to think about it, and was busy trying to find something to say that would get Cassian to smile at her, which was nearly impossible. Despite those thoughts, as Han vanished from sight, Cassian turned on her. 

“Don’t talk about the princess like that.”

She reared back, eyes snapping to Bodhi for support. Bodhi kept his face passive, flickering back and forth between them like he couldn’t call this fight. 

“It was just a joke,” she mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes. 

Bodhi’s gentle, protective nature won out, and he tried to appease both of them;

“I’m sure Jyn didn’t meant anything by it. If anything, it just made Han look-”

“I’m sure it meant nothing,” Cassian said quietly, “but she’s been through a lot.”

Jyn’s face crinkled up in indignation. “You don’t have to coddle her. She’s as tough as any of us.” 

She didn’t know why she needed him to concede, give her a soft smile, tell her it was okay. She’d been less emotionally involved in fistfights she’d lost. 

_ “She is your superior officer-” _

_ “Cassian,”  _ a warning flared in Bodhi’s voice, who looked as confused and anxious as Jyn did. 

Jyn chewed her thumbnail, her face impassive like a teenager being scolded by a teacher. She shrugged her shoulders. 

“And deserves respect. Just like you. Sorry Cassian.”

She rose quickly and was out of the room in an escape only she was capable of, easy to miss in the span of a blink. 

 

Jyn was cold, as usual on Hoth, the planet she was growing to hate. She looked for her favorite space heater, tucked in a corner of one of the far-reaching hallway of bunks. Less traffic, not a lot of people knew it was there. 

Han did, apparently. He was there, nursing away the cold and also nursing a large bruise on his cheek. 

“What happened there?”

“Tried to stop her.”

“So now we know who’s boss.”

Jyn stood next to Han at a space heater, both of them as close to it as possible, and by extension, each other because it was small. 

“I hate this planet,” she growled. 

“I find the climate rejuvenating.”

She elbowed him, straightening up at the sound of boots approaching. She glanced over her shoulder, eyebrows raised confrontationally, because  _ this was her space heater.  _

Cassian stood at the end of the hallway, looking a little dizzy. 

“Sorry, I thought I heard something,” he said quietly. 

After he left, Jyn was convinced she had been doing something wrong, even though there was nothing she could name about her actions specifically to make her feel that way. 

 

“You could have lost several toes, if you weren’t careful.” 

Jyn flinched at the needle poking into her skin, checking for nerve damage. The droid was unsurprisingly unsympathetic. 

“I’m not used to this climate.”

“You were not properly dressed to be outside that long.”

Jyn flinched at another needle sting, which she was sure this time was punctuating. A droid making a point, as if she needed another K2 lurking around. 

She glanced up at the window outside the medbay. Cassian was there, arms crossed, eyes concerned. 

She waved a hand at him, maybe beckoning him closer, maybe saying hello. He hesitated, pressing his palm to the glass. An offer. 

“I’ll be okay,” she mouthed, attempting to wiggle her toes at him. It was unsuccessful, they were still numb. He grimaced in response, drawing away from the window. 

 

Bodhi helped her limp over to her room, snuck her an extra pair of socks, asked her a million questions to help make her feel better. She was warm, and all her toes were safe, but she still felt awful. Cassian’s face wouldn’t leave her thoughts. It was just so disappointed in her, like she let it happen. 

There was a knock on her door. She limped over to answer it. Cassian stood there, looking hopeful, not defeated, which was a vast improvement on her nerves. 

At his feet, a small, compact space heater, like the one she’d crowded around all week. 

“Don’t ask where I got it.”

“Cassian, did you steal a space heater for me?”

“If I don’t answer that, I can’t incriminate you,” he smiled shyly, and there was something earnest about the joke. He wasn’t dragging her down from her cocky pedestal. It was self-deprecating and sweet. 

“Cassian, that’s almost romantic.”

He ducked his head back down, cowed, making his excuses. 

“No, come in. Stay.”

She pulled the heater up close to her bed, seating herself on the edge, and motioned for him to take the chair. They sat on either side of it, staring at it as though it was a fire instead of a metal box. 

“You and Solo?” Cassian broke the silence with. 

Jyn’s faced twisted in confusion. “What?”

“Are you,” he motioned vaguely.

“Not in the slightest.”

“Oh. You should.”

“What?” 

“You two just...are similar.”

“People say that about  _ us _ ,” she pointed out, “Does that mean anything to you, to hear that? If that’s your reason?”

The words flew out of her mouth before she thought about the implied dare. He looked at her over the heater, face cautious. He was so careful. They weren’t alike in that regard. 

He looked down before she did. “You’re right. I guess that’s no reason.”

“Idiot,” she snarled, grabbing him by the collar. Her lips found his, and she could feel his rebuttal melt into a soft, gentle kiss. He was tentative, like he thought she was proving another point and was going to lose his footing again. 

“Move before one of us gets burnt,” was all he said in reply. 

She collapsed backwards on her bed. She expected him to pounce, but instead he rounded the heater, guided her to her feet and pulls back the covers. He eased her back down and pulled off her boots, then her socks. 

He held her feet into his hands, assessing that she had all ten toes. His hands both massaged and lightly tickled, checking if her skin was responsive. The touch itself wasn’t exactly sexy, but the intent very much was. He deemed her safe with a kiss to the arch of her right foot and returning the socks to their rightful place.

“Han Solo wouldn’t check on my frostbitten feet,” Jyn whispered. His eyes locked on hers. She saw the breath hiss out of his nose. 

“Han Solo wouldn’t check on me in the medbay…  _ Han Solo wouldn’t bring me a space heater, _ ” she drawled, crawling up her bed. He followed, compliant. 

“And yet, you were jealous of Han Solo,” she breathed against his lips. Her hands threaded together at the nape of his neck. He buried his face in the curve of her neck, licking and kissing and sucking. She shivered. 

“You had every opportunity in the world to keep me warm on this kriffing planet if you had just gotten over your stupid competitive nonsense with Princess Leia’s boyfriend.”

He lifted his head. “What?”

“Think about it.”

He rolled off of her, onto his back. “Oh.  _ Oh. _ ” 

Jyn laughed, going to unbutton her shirt. Cassian glanced sideways at her, hands folded boredly on his chest. 

“Shouldn’t I be doing that?” 

She ran a hand over an exposed breast, shrugging, “I mean, I could ask  _ Han Solo _ to-”

He pounced on her, hands everywhere, and she giggled until she gasped, warring emotions making her unable to filter the noises as they came. 

“I think you like me jealous,” his voice was even warmer than his body, and she was so, so glad to have him there. 

“I do,” she agreed, hands smoothing down his back as he took a nipple into his mouth. She trembled, handing him control, and he worked beautifully with it. 

“Hiding in the back of the briefing room with him, flirting,  _ driving me insane. _ ”

“You never laughed at my jokes,” she sighed by way of explanation. He chuckled darkly.

“Showing off for him how clever you are, like he’s not the biggest scoundrel in the galaxy…”

“I thought he and I were so alike, so similar, so good for each other, remember?” she dug her fingers into his hair and lifted his head. 

“I think you’re noble, in here,” he mused, kissing over the curve of her left breast. 

“Not a chance,” she replied flippantly, her sarcastic smile trying to bridge how far she was pushing him away with her words. 

“You are,” he dragged his pelvis back and forth in the cradle of hers. 

“I… I don’t know what I am, anymore. Not running anymore. Staying here.”

The implied  _ with you _ gave him pause. She looked scared. He had known that while life at base wasn’t exactly stable, it was more regimented and routine than anything she’d known. Operating between knowing the next time she would eat and the people she could see every day was new, and she didn’t have to be four fake names and a secret one. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you yesterday.”

She shrugged, touching his hair. Now that he was letting her, she didn’t see herself stopping. 

“Jyn,” he placed both hands on either side of her head, raising himself off of her, “I was rude to you. I respect you more than that. I let myself get clouded with how much I wanted to make you smirk like that, the way you did when you were sharing some moment with Solo.”

He was such a straightlaced person. Honest. The fact he could drive past the layer of her snark terrified and excited her. 

She wanted him as stunned and excited as she was. Her finger tapped once against his lips, sliding across the bottom one, touching him with soft, unhurried curiosity. 

“When I touch myself, I don’t think about him.”

He dropped down a bit, one arm reaching down to draw one of her legs around his waist. He clung to the back of her thigh, white-knuckled. She could tell the words had the impact she wanted. She laughed, victorious. 

“Who do you think about?” he whispered very softly against her lips, her mouth opening to accept his tongue the second he teased her lips with it. It took a while for her to be able to answer. 

“You. Inside me. Fucking me wherever I can think of. Just you.”

Their lips barely parted to give her room to say the words. Just as they ended she sucked his tongue into her mouth and held him close. 

He reached down to unbutton her trousers. 

“Just let me apologize.”

“Fine. Apologize.”

His hand cupped her over her underwear, and she arched against his touch. 

“I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve it.”

“What do I deserve?” she stretched out underneath him, inviting and warm on that agonizingly cold planet. There was no more teasing, at least verbally, as Cassian drove every possible thought of Han Solo out of her mind with the curl of his fingers inside her. Jyn looked up at Cassian with large, sensitive eyes, and it became perfectly clear to the both of them that Cassian now had a private side to her that no one else would. She shuddered in his arms, breathing light and quick, feathering air up and down his neck. He was a focused man, a practised one, and his fingers inside her moved like he knew the difference between wants and needs. Wants were easy things, in that moment; to come, to come right now,  _ to just get to come. _ Needs were more complicated, for him to touch  _ yes that spot _ again, then go slow and gentle until she was blinking at him, slightly coherent again, then to have him speed up and kiss her neck and claim her mouth in his as his fingers finished her off. 

There were things she had wanted; to look untouchable, to make people think she was clever, to get a laugh. There was what she needed; to keep warm, to be touched, to have him smile at her. 

She was a sweaty, panting mess when she looked up at him, clouded by pleasure, and he did just that. That’s what did it, and that’s when she knew what she needed. 

 

Later on, they lay in bed, savoring the warmth radiating between them and from the side of her bed. He spooned behind her, chivalrously taking the colder spot by the wall.

“My room’s a lot warmer now,” she stroked her thumb over the back of his hand. He  _ hmm _ ed in response. 

Cassian hadn’t had as much patience when she wriggled out of her trousers. They fucked like they were almost out of time, feet sliding down the sheets for traction and leverage, hands clinging, breath erratic. She was so wet from his fingers that he was able to slide in easily, her walls clutched him to express her pleasure and through that, extended his own. 

“I guess you’ll have to stay here. It’s more practical,” she kissed his cheek. He snuggled closer, and the smile on his face was worth that whole briefing room of laughter at some stupid joke she barely remembered. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Has anyone who’s read all my fics noticed that my interpretations of Jyn and Cassian vary widely depending on my mood? Just me? Cool.


End file.
